Anima
by TeaLovingAmerican
Summary: Something was strange about Harry Potter's daemon and it wasn't just the fact that it was male, that much anyone could tell. Some may attribute the strangeness to the eery crimson eyes he sports in all of his forms, but there was something else that was disconcerting about the being named Mortimaeus that was the daemon of the famous Boy-Who-Lived. But what was it? daemon!au


**Author's Note: **Well, here. Have another story. I have been working on my others, and by writing this I feel rather unfaithful, but I've been wanting to write a daemon au for Harry Potter since the movie based upon Phillip Pullman's The Golden Compass (Or maybe I should call it Northern Lights as I believe it is called in Europe) came out all those years ago when I was a kid. As I was rereading the trilogy, I had a strong yearning to finally write that fic, so here I am. I don't really consider it a crossover as the ideas of daemon familiars came along a long time before the His Dark Materials trilogy and I am tweaking bits and pieces about his version of daemonology anyways, not to mention I am using no characters from the books themselves in the fic, but if many of you consider it as such, I may reconsider my decision and will put it in the crossover section. Oh, and I've noticed that I tend to forget to put a disclaimer in my stories. Well here, have a disclaimer. I, in no way, own the rights to Harry Potter. I do have a disturbing and rather unhealthy obsession with Tom Riddle though. It's starting to worry me. On another note, this title was chosen randomly on the spot after I finished writing the chapter and realized I didn't even have a title prepared.

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><p>Anima<p>

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars."  
>-Khalil Gibran<p>

The Boy and the Daemon

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><p>Scales rubbed pleasantly on the back of a small neck, as the owner of the scales hissed unhappily. Messy black hair covered emerald eyes filled with mirth which were focused on a pan upon the stove. The owner of the gleeful eyes hidden behind round, crooked glasses, a ten year old boy named Harry James Potter, used a spatula to flip the frying bacon.<p>

"Honestly, forcing us to cook for them like common slaves. If I could, I would-"

"Do nothing," the boy whispered amusedly at his companion, "Or would you rather we slept on the streets?"

The comeback seemed to give the snake a pause for consideration before he hissed in dissatisfaction and performed the snake-equivalent of a pout, slumping and putting all of his weight upon the ten year old's shoulders. Harry did his best to stifle a giggle before mock-glaring at his companion.

"Can you behave for once, Mortimaeus? We're going to get in trouble if you keep this up."

The black Amazon Tree Boa with a brown and red mottled design gave another unhappy hiss before sliding down the ten year old's arm and settling itself upon the counter. Red eyes glared balefully at the scrawny boy in indignation before seeming to decide he was not worth his attention and looked aside disinterestedly. In a matter of seconds, an equally disinterested black cat replaced the snake and brought a paw up to its face to groom. The boy had to hold in a snort at the sight; he always found this particular form of his companion to accentuate his vainness perfectly, with its clean, sleek black fur that never seemed to have a hair out of place. A perfect contrast to the boy's bird nest for hair.

Harry focused once more upon the task at hand: preparing breakfast for his relatives. It wasn't an unusual task to the boy, but even the slightest mistake in his cooking could result in him not receiving any of it, and after overcooking an egg the day before, he could not afford another mistake.

As he was carefully transferring the cooked bacon onto three plates, the cat stopped grooming and glared at the still slightly sizzling bacon. Sharp claws appeared as it hissed.

"I ought to accidentally drop some fur on their plates. It would serve them right."

Green eyes shined in mirth once more as he sent a small grin at his friend before continuing to plate the food.

"Yes, but you know it wouldn't matter Mort. They wouldn't even see the fur," he whispered complacently to the black cat, although it didn't seem to work as the creature smirked, though if you asked Harry how a cat could smirk he wouldn't be able to explain, and whispered back conspiringly, "All the better of revenge, then, wouldn't you say?"

The raven haired boy merely rolled his eyes at the cheeky cat before bringing two of the plates to the table, setting the plate with the smallest of the portions in front of the only seated member of the table, a tall, overly-skinny woman with a thin face and eyes of hawk glaring at him. She sniffed in annoyance, but didn't react more as the boy hadn't made any move or action of disobedience. Harry quickly brought the remaining plate to the table before moving over to the wall and staring uncertainly down at the ground. He inwardly frowned, he hated this part of his morning ritual. He always felt as if he was hovering over his relatives as if a servant in olden times.

As if feeling his self-loathing thoughts, Mortimaeus, as was the creature's name, transformed into a tiny raven, only slightly bigger than the scrawny boy's fist, and flew up onto his shoulder and cocked his head to the side in question. Smiling at his constant companion, it took everything in Harry not to bring up a hand to pet the silken black feathers in comfort. As the urge almost became unbearable, Harry was knocked out of his thoughts by the heavy lumbering of his uncle coming down the stairs. Right on time, the kitchen door swung open, revealing a man of monstrous proportions with a face that was always flushed from exertion. The man was one Vernon Dursley, the husband of Petunia Dursley, the woman who was sitting at the table and who was Harry's aunt. The heavyset man didn't give the boy standing off to the side even a glance as he sat down in his usual seat at the head of the table and promptly began to eat.

Harry grimaced at the way his uncle ate, though even he had to admit that his uncle had better table manners than the boy who was currently occupying the doorway of the kitchen. A plump boy with blonde hair snarled at the unmoving ten year old boy before plopping himself down at the only unoccupied seat at the table and began to scarf down his food, bits of bacon, egg, and sausage flying as he hurriedly ate. The bird on the boy's shoulder apparently viewed the blonde's eating habits the same as he, for he cawed loudly in disgust before stating quite loudly, "What a disgusting and ungrateful wretch. A waste of air and space! _Some people _don't even deserve the life they are given."

Despite the proclamation being so loud that Harry could hear it bouncing off the walls, the three occupants of the table seemed to not hear it as they continued to eat obliviously. The only one in the room who could even see the bird was Harry and the bird himself. Harry had no doubt that if his relatives truly knew of Mortimaeus's existence, they would do everything in their power to get rid of the obvious 'freakishness' that was Harry's daemon. For that was what Mortimaeus was, a daemon. Harry had known this inherent truth since before he could remember, it was knowledge that Harry didn't need to learn for he had always known and his daemon had always _been_.

When Harry was younger, he would talk and interact with his daemon constantly, as if it was normal to have a companion who could read his thoughts and emotions and Harry himself could read his companion's. And to Harry, this was normal. Mortimaeus and he were one and the same. Large distances from each other resulted in pain and contact was comforting. The thought of another touching Mortimaeus was uncomfortable, to say the least, in Harry's opinion. Even more uncomfortable than someone touching Harry himself.

Of course, after the Dursley's took notice of Harry's 'imaginary friend' as they called Mortimaeus, and began to lock Harry up in his cupboard for hours and telling him repeatedly that seeing things that weren't there and talking to them was abnormal and 'freakish,' Harry began to understand that perhaps not everyone had a daemon of their own. In fact, his entire family did not have daemons. Mortimaeus used to say it was a good thing his relatives did not have daemons because there was no doubt in his mind that his uncle and cousin would have dirty and disgusting pigs for daemons and his aunt a bird with a particularly annoying squawk. When Harry was younger, he almost despaired that he was the only one to have a bond as special as he and Mortimaeus, though he would not give Mortimaeus up for the world. His thoughts were put to rest by the odd strangers he would meet out in public.

One of such strangers being a short man in a violet top hat that had bowed to him when he was shopping with his aunt and cousin. By his side was a large Newfoundland dog that dwarfed the tiny old man beside him. She was white with a few black spots and bowed politely and happily to Mortimaeus who was standing near Harry in his cat form. Upon sight, Harry and Mortimaeus knew instinctually that she was a daemon and the revelation that he was not the only one with a daemon left him stupefied so he did not react quick enough to greet the man before his aunt had dragged him off away from the man and began interrogating him on whether he knew him or not. When Harry was dragged to the Dursley's car with his cousin, he was disappointed to see the man had disappeared. The sightings of daemons were always far and few between.

Once he had seen a strange woman on the bus in all green clothes with an even stranger mammal clinging to her arm wave at him. Mortimaeus had also shared his curiosity in the species of creature the woman's daemon was and had transformed into the odd looking mammal until Harry had found out what it was at his school's library. Apparently it was a rainforest animal called a Kinkajou and commonly called a honey bear. Upon hearing its common name, Mortimaeus became mortified and had immediately changed into his favorite form, the Amazon Tree Boa, and swore to never change into something with such an embarrassing name again. Harry was immensely amused by this.

The last time he had happened upon a daemon was not too long ago. A man with a shiny bald head dressed in a long purple coat had come up and shook his hand, a female parrot daemon upon his shoulder who had actually spoken to Mortimaeus, who had been in his miniature raven form at the time, before they both walked off and promptly disappeared.

Those sparse few meetings with others with daemons uplifted his spirit, though it also brought the thought at the back of his mind to nag him that his relatives were right that only abnormal people would have daemons, even if they didn't know of daemons in particular. After all, those few he had met were all rather odd. Mortimaeus would shoo away such thoughts whenever he caught wind of them, comforting Harry with the thought that it was those without daemons that were unnatural. Even if after the incessant rants from his daemon, he did not truly believe his daemon's words, he was always comforted by them in the very least.

Harry's cousin, the overweight blonde boy named Dudley Dursley, had always taken particular pleasure ridiculing Harry for his 'imaginary friend.' The raven haired boy often had to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep from saying something he would regret, though he would delight in the words his daemon would spew at the oblivious blonde. It made the bruises he received from those encounters worth it. Later, when Harry and Mortimaeus were locked in the cupboard under the stairs with the family of spiders, Mortimaeus would lick Harry's open cuts with gentle carefulness and love while complaining acidly about it and Harry's weakness to allow the older boy bully him the entire time.

Despite his relatives' insistence that Harry, and Mortimaeus in consequence, was a freak of nature, Harry would never forsake his lifelong companion. Being without his daemon was inconceivable to Harry, and when Harry had asked if Mort would rather be without him, he had gotten an annoyed and indignant reply that said that the daemon being without his human was just as inconceivable. Mortimaeus was the only being in the world that Harry loved, and his sole friend and confidant.

The messy haired boy was dragged out of his musing by a commotion at the table. The boy inwardly winced, hoping beyond all hope that the fuss wasn't over an insignificant fault in his cooking that would result in him being denied the leftover scraps, only to sigh in relief and annoyance when he caught up with the conversation at the table.

"-and your presents are waiting for you on the table in the living room. Oh, I know you are going to just _love _the ones your father and I bought you, Dinky Duddydums. Mommy and Daddy always pick out the best presents for your birthdays don't we, darling?"

Harry inwardly scowled and rolled his eyes at his aunt. She treated her son as if he was turning five, not the eleven he was turning. Harry hadn't seen said presents, as he was forced to the stove as soon as he was awoken, but he had a faint idea that the presents would amount to well over triple the gifts Harry had received in his ten years.

"Now, why don't you head upstairs and comb your hair to look handsome, although you can't look more handsome than you already do Dudders, and then come down to see your presents. Your friend Piers will be here in about half an hour, dear."

Mortimaeus, now in his black cat form again and lying languidly around Harry's shoulders, scoffed before sending a pointed glance at his human.

"If I ever see you acting like those imbeciles, I will bite you. I swear."

The emerald eyed youth smiled down at his feet, his hair covering his laughing eyes so that his relatives wouldn't see, as he whispered, "I promise I will _welcome _you to bite me if you see me acting like them, Mort."

The daemon smirked at his human before getting up and stretching on his shoulders and then jumping down on the floor. Giving one last lick to his perfect fur, the daemon changed forms again. This time, Mortimaeus took the form of a small lion with pale golden fur and a dark black messy mane and tail tip that mirrored his human's hair. As in all of his forms, red eyes sparkled on the animal's face.

The eleven year old preened under his mother's attention before waddling out of the room and up the stairs. Harry stiffened as he saw his uncle get up, ready for whatever was going to happen, only to relax as the man walked out of the room, not giving the boy even the slightest of attention. The days when Harry was nothing more than an annoying fly that his uncle could ignore were some of his favorite, though since it was Dudley's birthday, the ten year old had a sinking feeling that his good day wouldn't last for very long. His aunt was the last to stand, and as she left the kitchen, she screeched an order to clean up the breakfast, which the boy took as his cue and was silently thankful that he would get some food in the morning.

The thin boy scurried around the room, bringing the dishes to the sink and scrubbing them with a rag and dish soap before setting them on the drying rack, his daemon sitting where he had left him watching with bored eyes. Only when Harry finally got around to the nearly empty pans, did Mortimaeus move to stand by him, and the raven haired boy smiled down at his friend before offering him a scrap of bacon. Mortimaeus wanted to feel offended that he was being fed table scraps, but seeing as he was eating just as well as his human was, he quelled the thought and accepted the offering, knowing it would make Harry happy. Having caught wind of his daemon's thoughts, Harry shot the small lion a lopsided grin before continuing to eat the cold and greasy meager leftovers.

After he finished his breakfast and then washed the pans and countertops, the ten year old moved towards the living room's opening which was quite near his cupboard door. Peering inside the room, the boy was disgusted but not surprised to see a table overflowing with more gifts than Harry could imagine ever getting and a whining eleven year old complaining of it being too few. The lion at his side seemed to share his opinion as he hissed in annoyance before heading towards their quarters. Harry made to follow him when he was stopped by a call of 'boy' from his uncle, prompting him to turn around and acknowledge his sorry excuse for a family.

"There's been a change of plans. Mrs. Figg can't take you. I would leave you here, but I don't trust an ungrateful freak like you in my house alone."

Here, Mortimaeus, who had apparently come back to Harry upon hearing his uncle addressing him, began hissing out insults before giving a last, 'an ungrateful freak indeed,' before relatively calming himself. Vernon, unaware of the raging feline, continued speaking.

"Although I want nothing more than for you to disappear so that my son can enjoy his birthday, I'm afraid we have to take you with us. You will be severely punished if you ruin my son's day," Vernon finished, viciously stating his last words.

Dudley had apparently been listening as his head whipped up in horror at his father's words.

"Dad, you can't mean-," he started but paused uncertainly before throwing a horrified look at his cousin then throwing a pitiful beseeching look towards his parents. His mother withered under the look and sent a look towards her son as if begging for forgiveness while his father just shook his head solemnly, in way of confirmation of the boy's fears. The newly turned eleven year old's face screwed up immediately in fake agony and he began blubbering in fake sobs. Petunia, seeing her son in distress, ran over and enveloped him in a hug, murmuring apologies and assurances into his blonde hair.

At the knock at the door, Dudley ripped himself away from his mother, quitting his fake sobs, and smoothed out his hair and clothes. Harry walked over to the door to let in Piers Polkiss, Dudley's rat-faced best friend, and his mother. Piers was a wretched boy with a thin figure and a constant sneer upon his face who kept Dudley's victims in place during his bullying. Harry always found the boy's squinty brown eyes rather cold, and his mother's seemed no warmer. The woman sneered down at him, having heard horror stories of the boy, but the boy just bowed his head in subservience as they walked into the house, Petunia immediately jumping into the role of host. Mortimaeus's tail flicked angrily at the boy before stomping into the living room, his human trailing after him.

Soon, Mrs. Polkiss was being herded out of the house, leaving the two elder boys picking through the birthday boy's presents for something interesting as they waited. Soon the elder Dursley's came and debriefed the children on their destination for the day. As Harry listened, he felt himself getting excited, though he was careful to not show it on the outside. He was going to the zoo! He had never been anywhere other than the Dursley residence of Number Four Privet Drive, old Mrs. Figg's house, or St. Grogory's Primary School. And the zoo would be full of all sorts of animals that Mortimaeus could transform into for variety. As the raven haired boy was filled with elation, he felt a foreign worry and looked down inconspicuously at his daemon. His daemon's red eyes bored into his own emerald ones and he sent him his thoughts. Harry couldn't fight the frown that hit his face as he thought over what his daemon had thought of.

Animals were different than most humans that the boy and daemon pair had met. All animals could see Mortimaeus. Mort had often called it a sixth sense, and Harry had to agree, though he wondered if that meant he, himself had a sixth sense too. But that was beside the point at the moment. The problem was that the animals would see the daemon, and could give his existence away to the Dursley's for real this time. Uncertainty and worry suddenly weighed down Harry's elation, though he was still determined to see as many animals as he could.

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><p>Within the next thirty minutes, the raven haired boy sat in the Dursley's car, on his way to his first trip to the zoo. Sure, he was practically squished into the car door as his cousin chose to sit in the middle, which left the tree boa on his lap complaining, and said cousin was constantly making jabs at him for a laugh, but he was rather content all the same. To calm his raging daemon, the raven haired boy brought a hand to rest on the serpent's head, letting a lone finger pet the scales in an unobtrusive manner so as not to alert the car occupants. Before he was allowed into the car, he had been given a long lecture by his uncle on his punishments if he ruined his son's birthday, and what he was allowed to do on their outing, but Harry had gotten through it and now he was finally on his way to a new place.<p>

Before long they arrived at the London zoo and were walking through the entrance. As it was a beautiful Saturday, the zoo had much business and Harry was surprised to see so many people. Dudley pointed at a van selling ice cream and the party of five, six if daemons counted, sauntered over to the ice cream van in the sun. Dudley and Piers ordered large chocolate ice creams that were already starting to melt in the heat, though they seemed to not mind. As the Dursley's began to leave, the vender, who was an old lady, asked the ten year old what he would like. Vernon was apparently not pleased by this, if the grimace upon his face was any clue, though he quickly stepped in and bought the cheapest thing they sold, a common lemon ice pop which he hurriedly shoved at the scrawny boy. The ice pop was rather good, Harry thought, and even Mortimaeus slid down a bit from his perch upon his shoulders to lick the pop with a black forked tongue.

The trip was going rather well. Their worries seemed to have been for naught, as the other members of the group were happy to pretend the black haired boy wasn't with them and therefore didn't look too closely if an animal's eyes lingered at what seemingly would be thin air over the boy's shoulder. The trip was rather informative as well. With each animal, there was a sign with a small description about the animal upon it. The trip was spent with whispers from the boy to the snake about possible forms they could try out later, and sarcastic comments about their group members.

Around lunchtime, the other two boys were starting to lose interest in the animals, and were glad by the distraction of lunch. The group bought a large lunch, which Harry received a small part of for appearance's sake, and left his uncle muttering about the outrageous prices that the zoo restaurant was allowed to set, which left Mortimaeus with a hissy laughing fit. After they finished lunch, the other two boys received dessert of Knickerbocker glories, though why they would name a dessert such, Harry couldn't say, and why two boys would need desserts after lunch was a mystery to him as well, but when Dudley complained about his not being good enough and demanded a new one, Harry was given the leftovers of his first, and he decided he wouldn't complain about the ridiculousness of it all.

After they left the restaurant, they headed straight for the air-conditioned reptile house, as it was the hottest time of the day and the sun was bearing down on them, which left the snake daemon rather excited. He had been waiting for this since they arrived, though Harry just rolled his eyes at his friend, wondering why anyone would want to be coldblooded.

Upon entering the exhibit, the youngest Dursley went straight towards the largest snake in the room, his lackey and his family trailing faithfully behind him. The sleeping Boa Constrictor ignored the tapping on the glass and the whining of the boy until finally they moved away reluctantly and with slight anger. The emerald eyed youth felt a sudden surge of compassion for the caged serpent and moved to stand in front of its enclosure. As if sensing the wave of empathy from the ten year old boy, the boa opened its golden eyes and sat up to stare into emerald and crimson. After merely staring at the human and daemon duo for a minute straight, the snake winked. Logically speaking, having had to read books about snakes from the library to appease his daemon's love for them, he knew the only snake that could wink was his daemon, because regular snakes do not have eyelids. But for all intents and purposes, what his eyes had perceived was a wink from the caged boa.

The raven haired boy snuck a glance at the rest of his group to see if they noticed, but instead saw them gawking at a large lizard. Fidgeting and pulling on the overly long sleeve of his cousin's hand me down shirt, he looked back over to the constrictor with a look of apology in his eyes.

The snake merely gave him a look of acceptance of its mundane life that brought the boy's empathy out even stronger. At least he had Mort with him, so as not to be completely alone as he was caged. The boa in front of him had no one but annoying passerbys who stick their face against the glance to peer at it, and handlers probably too terrified of the snake that was so large that it could wrap around his uncle's car multiple times to do more than throw in its food quickly and clean its cage only when they must. He had Mort, but the Boa Constrictor had nobody.

With a morose look upon his young face, Harry murmured to the serpent behind the glass, "It must be terribly boring, sitting there all day, every day, with only people like them for company."

The snake nodded its head furiously, seemingly pleased to find someone who understood its feelings. Harry felt an odd detached sort of feeling about the scene he was engaged in, as if he was a mere spectator of the event. It was that surreal.

With a quick glance at the snake's description, Harry picked up the word Brazil and decided to ask it whether it liked it there, which only resulted in the snake jabbing its tail back towards the sign for the boy to reread it. Doing so, the scrawny boy frowned in a choking sadness over the fact that this snake knew nothing of the outside world, having been born into its own personal hell. Harry himself often felt this way, though he constantly reminded himself that he didn't live in the Dursley residence for the first year of his life, though since he was so young it didn't really matter much in the end.

As the boy began to ask the serpent about what it was fed, he was interrupted by a yell in the unmistakable voice of the infuriating rat-faced boy Piers about the snake.

Immediately, four new people were around the enclosure and the black haired boy's fat cousin pushed him to the ground with an urgent 'move,' so that he could have plain view of the active snake. Harry could see the snake's displeased and annoyed look even from his spot on the ground, though his own boa demon was hissing and spitting and yelling in rage at the boy that dared to push his human around, leaving Harry to inconspicuously pet the serpent's head to calm him to the best of his ability.

Piers and Dudley had their faces pressed against the glass, grease smudges from their face appearing immediately, and Harry sat up and let out a low hiss as he gingerly touched his side that had been rammed into. Before one could blink after the ten year old's pained hiss, the glass of the habitat disappeared, leaving the two eleven year olds to jump back in surprise. The raven haired boy on the ground looked up in stunned surprise, his daemon hissing in amusement and repeating over and over, 'did you see their faces? Priceless!'

The large green boa slid smoothly out of the now opened cage, its body pooling in front of the boy. It give the snake equivalent of a smile and a polite nod before emerald eyes widened in amazement as he heard the snake speak quite clearly, "_Brazil here I come… Thanksss, amigo._"

Dazed emerald eyes continued to stare at the spot in front of him where the Boa Constrictor had previously been, until he was shook out of his thoughts by the piercing screams of the zoo goers who were snapped at playfully by the large serpent. The Dursleys and young Piers were in shock, though the first to snap out of it was apparently the young Polkiss boy, as he stated, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"

The young Potter wasn't sure if he had ever seen his uncle's face get quite as red as it did at that moment, before it quickly bled to a decidedly purple shade where it stayed as he grabbed the small boy off the ground and jerked him upright before storming out of the zoo, dragging the ten year old along, before pushing said ten year old into his car and slamming the door behind him. Mortimaeus, though still amused by the prior event, was muttering about what he would like to do to the Dursley patriarch as the others filed into the car. Throughout the ride to Number Four, Harry was forced to listen to Dudley and Piers whine about how the snake had nearly killed them, though all were present, and as such, knew that not to be true, but got the sympathy they were searching for all the same. Harry stayed silent the entire trip, as did his uncle who was still rather red in the face all the way home. The only saving grace for the ten year old was his daemon's mutterings that took his mind off of his punishment that he knew was going to happen as soon as they got to Number Four.

When they did pull into the driveway of Number Four Privet Drive, Vernon had yet to speak a word and jerkily got out of the car before snatching the youngest boy out and dragging him in the house. Standing in front of the young boy's cupboard, the man barely could say intelligent words, Harry barely making out 'stay,' 'cupboard,' and 'no meals,' before he wrenched open the cupboard door and threw the scrawny boy in, followed by promptly slamming and locking the door behind him. The raven haired boy could feel new bruises forming and let out a small groan of pain, which only brought his daemon to transform into his cat form and rub against him in comfort, letting out a calming purr that lulled him to sleep.

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><p>As it would be, the boy's sentence to his cupboard was the longest one yet. He supposed it would have lasted longer if the Dursley's didn't need their unpaid servant around the house and hadn't gotten tired of throwing in a stale piece of bread and nearly-rotten fruit every other day. The messy haired boy had spent his time playing with old forgotten toys of Dudley, which he had nicked when he would clean the boy's second bedroom, in the tiny ray of light his daemon could emit as a firefly, as the old light bulb in the cupboard had gone out when Harry was eight. A couple years ago Mortimaeus had demanded that Harry research animals that naturally glowed in the dark for him to transform into so they wouldn't be forced into darkness for so long, but it turned out bioluminescence was quite rare in non-aquatic and non-experimented-upon animals, so their choices were rather limited. As Mort refused to transform into a millipede or a snail, they were stuck with the weak light of a firefly. The ten year old liked to embarrass his daemon by saying he made a rather adorable lightning bug, which would result in very indignant shouting from said daemon.<p>

Currently, the emerald eyed boy was standing by the wall once more, waiting for his relatives to finish breakfast with his daemon in the form of a dark red fox at his side grooming a paw. Hearing the mail hit the floor down the hall, his uncle ordered Harry to retrieve it, which he happily went to do, Mort trotting faithfully at his side. They both agreed that anything was preferable to watching his family eat.

A few papers were lying in front of the door, though one envelope in particular caught the raven haired boy's eyes. It was made of what appeared to be parchment, and as he picked it up, his eyes widened at the inscription in green ink upon the cover.

**Mr. H. Potter**

**The Cupboard under the Stairs**

**4 Privet Drive**

**Little Whinging**

**Surrey**

Harry, having never received mail before stared at it before looking towards his daemon in confusion for guidance. Mortimaeus, upon seeing his human's lost face, spat at him to open it and read it already, which seemed to have the wanted effect, as the boy turned it over to begin opening, pausing for a half minute to trace the strange emblem upon the back showing a badger, a raven, a snake, and a lion with his forefinger, before cautiously beginning to open it. Just as he was beginning to take the emblem away from the paper beneath it to open it, he was stopped by a shout from his uncle calling for him to hurry up, causing him to quickly clutch onto his letter possessively and for his fox daemon to let out a feral growl before giving a quick and curt demand to slip it into his cupboard as he passed to read when they had time later. The boy quickly gathered the mail still lying on the ground before doing as his daemon had instructed and then going to give the remaining mail to his uncle.

Throughout the day, it was obvious to his aunt who was supervising his chores that he was altogether overly antsy, and, after he had nearly broken the living room lamp in his distractedness, was sent to his cupboard. Harry hadn't been aiming for that to happen but he and Mortimaeus agreed that it had worked out for the best.

With the grate upon the door open, the boy had some light to see, though Mort changed into a firefly anyways, and began hovering over the still-sealed envelope. Getting the hint, the boy quickly opened the envelope, not pausing to admire the emblem this time around. The ten year old pulled out two sheets of parchment from the envelope, deciding to read the one of top first.

Under the filtered light of the grate and his daemon's weak glow, the boy reached a hand up to hold his glasses as close to his face as possible as he struggled to read the words upon the paper.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_ of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted

at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please

find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no

later than July 31. If you do not reply by the specified

date, we will send a representative upon August 1.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

After rereading it a couple of times, and then continuing to read it aloud for his daemon's sake, he tentatively asked Mort's opinion on the letter. The firefly was not one of Mortimaeus's expressive forms, but Harry could tell from the tone of his voice that he was thinking it over rather carefully.

"Well, I suppose it would make sense. Why we're different from them, I mean," the daemon paused in thought and Harry had the impression that if he was in one of his mammal forms his eyebrows would be pushed together in thought, "It would make sense that those things you can do, our powers, are magic. And since the Dursley's obviously are_ not_ magic, maybe that's why they don't have daemons."

The small boy let out a small gasp at his daemon's revelation. He hadn't gotten that far along in his thought process, he had still been trying to decide if the letter was a hoax or not. But now that Mortimaeus said it, it made sense. How everyone around him claimed him to be a freak for the things he could do without trying, and how they couldn't see Mort. And that last man he had seen with a daemon! Hadn't he been in an overly long violet coat? Wasn't that what practitioners of magic, wizards, wore in the storybooks he had never been read as a child?

With his newfound epiphany, the raven haired boy let a shaky but large grin consume his face as he shuffled the papers in his hands before he turned to his daemon once more.

"What do we do?"

The daemon let out a snort.

"We wait until the first, of course. The letter said they would send someone then."

The boy brought a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it sheepishly with an embarrassed grin upon his face as he muttered a 'right.' After he collected himself, he turned to the second page of the envelope which he had yet to read, and upon reading it, saw it to be a list of required items for the next school term, should he attend.

The emerald eyed boy was amazed and astounded by the things listed and, in his excitement, managed to nod off to sleep with a silly grin upon his face after hours of imagining a world full of magic and daemons, completely ignoring his own daemon who was ridiculing him the entire time. Even the next morning, when he was awoken by the usual rapping and screeching of his aunt, he couldn't get rid of his grin as he was reminded of his dreams that had similarly been full of such a world.

* * *

><p>The next two weeks proved to be quite hard for the anxious duo, though the residents of the house were only privy to one of the two's anxiety. His uncle just attributed it to his usual freakishness and his cousin was eager to try to beat his newly nearly-bubbly younger cousin into misery and submission. Despite it all, Harry and Mortimaeus alike were anxiously awaiting the representative of the school of magic that had apparently accepted him as a student. Hope and eagerness burned in the two and it took everything in Harry not to burst out humming or skipping instead of walking at the oddest of times. Yes, the Dursleys noticed the change, and yes, he knew he should really control himself, as he was so often now being told by his daemon, but he just couldn't help himself.<p>

By the time July thirty-first rolled around, his own birthday, he could barely contain himself in excitement. He was not even disappointed when he was refused food on his birthday because he had burnt an egg in his distracted daze, because his mind was still so firmly upon the next day that even his stomach, which had always been one of his and Mort's main priorities, took a backseat.

On the morning of August the first, as the last living Potter stood off to the side in surreal bliss, watching his remaining family stuff themselves, there came a clear knock upon the front door of Number Four Privet Drive. The messy haired boy straightened immediately at the sound with a wicked grin on his face, his black cat daemon mimicking him. Obediently and eagerly, the boy moved towards the front door, itching to pull the door open and jump into the amazing future he had foreseen the day he received his letter. Controlling himself so as not to wrench the door open, he calmly slid the open and smiled up at the stranger upon his doorstep.

* * *

><p><strong>End Note: <strong>Well I had a lot of fun writing this. Honestly, I adore Harry and Mort now. I have the cutest scene in mind for them in the next chapter reading from Hogwarts: A History. The only thing I have yet to decide about the next chapter is if I will leave it as Hagrid as the one to pick up Harry, or make it McGonagall instead. I'll sleep on it. Oh, and some dialogue was from the book, though I did it mostly from memory and tried to refrain from doing so as much as possible. I take no credit for our lovely J.K. Rowling's writing. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading the first installment of this story.


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